Moments
by hrhrionastar
Summary: Drabbles, mostly for legendland. Includes Richard, Kahlan, Cara, Zedd, Darken, Nicci, Michael, and others.
1. Average Brother

**Average Brother**

Richard was always the special one. My father—mine! _Not his_!—always took his side. Once Richard snuck out at night to save a baby bird from the river—I guess it got caught in some tree branches or something, but we were in a hurry, so I didn't let Richard stop and get all dirty just before school—and when he came back he had the worst fever—!

We all caught it. I was miserable for weeks. But my father could only praise Richard. What a good boy, saving a baby bird—and then he had to keep it in the house, of course…What a nuisance. The cat ate it one day while he was out, and he made _such_ a fuss…

Richard wasn't even my parents' own son. But he always got all the attention.

"He's the baby, Michael," my mother used to say.

Why don't I ever get the chance to be the special one? The baby? I'm their_ only_ baby.

Richard is just some foundling. What's so special about that?

So when he's around, why do I feel like an extra? The average one. Boring. Richard's (Creator forfend) _sidekick._

Ugh.


	2. Burning Bright

**Burning Bright**

Nicci knew the moment Richard's kiss woke her from death (just like a fairy-tale) that she was never going to kneel before anyone—ever again.

Life was too short to waste on obeisance—Richard was right. Her strength was her own.

She was tired of walking with her face veiled—she crumpled the orange veil of a Sister of the Light—or of the Dark—in her hands.

Richard was gone, back to his quest—they would meet again, but there was one thing Nicci needed to do first.

This time, when she summoned Darken Rahl, the Keeper's emissary, she neither knelt nor begged. The days when Nicci submitted to another's will—the Prelate's, the Creator's, the Keeper's—were gone.

She was tired of walking with her head bowed and her eyes modestly lowered. She was tired of begging for orders.

And as she looked into Rahl's eyes, Nicci vowed she wasn't just going to be strong—she was going to be _brazen._


	3. Wedding Gifts

**Wedding Gifts**

The stack of books landed with a loud thud. "That's the last of them!" Richard called brightly to his new wife, Kahlan.

She emerged from their bedroom, still wearing her wedding gown, but with the top stays loosened. Richard's breath caught at her beauty.

Kahlan was more than he'd ever deserved—and, at last, they were together. Husband and wife—bonded forever.

Kahlan made a face. "'A Brief History of D'Hara'? 'Shadrins, the Care and Feeding Of'? 'Shota's Cookbook'—what _was_ Zedd thinking?"

Richard eyed his grandfather's rather substantive wedding gifts. He had to agree with Kahlan—the sheer volume of books was a little excessive. "I'm sure he's just trying to help…" Richard said, a little doubtfully.

"Honestly, did he really think we'd spend our honeymoon reading?" Kahlan said. She stepped closer. "Cara's gift was much more practical…" she whispered. Her fingers pulled the strings of her bodice even looser.

Richard swallowed hard. "R-really?" he asked hopefully.

Kahlan grinned. "Want to see?"

Richard wasn't sure he'd ever wanted anything so much.


	4. Coincidental Birthdays

**Coincidental Birthdays**

Sometimes, when Darken Rahl looked at the golden hair and sweet nature of his son, he was reminded so forcibly of Cara that it was hard to believe Kahlan was Nicholas's mother.

"Happy birthday, my son!" he said, swinging Nicholas into his arms. The boy was three today.

"Father, look—the Resistance has surrounded the Palace!" Nicholas said, squirming to get down. Quickly, he deployed the toy troops against the tiny invading toy warriors—red for D'Hara, green for the Midlands.

Golden-haired Nicholas was the commander, lord of all he surveyed.

Darken thought of Cara, and turned away until he could regain his composure.

Nicholas was a treasure—a gift beyond price.

Cara's son had been born precisely seven years earlier than Nicholas. On the same day. His soul was in the Underworld—but what if it had been called back—to Nicholas's body? Darken sometimes wondered…He kept expecting to see reproach in his son's eyes.

Their shared birthdays, he told himself firmly, were solely a coincidence.

Nevertheless, he was extra careful on Nichola's birthday. Just in case.


	5. Sitting in Judgment

**Sitting in Judgment**

The Mother Confessor sits in her chair, passing judgment on all those who break the Rule of Law.

She tries to be fair, to be reasonable—she is as reasonable as it's possible to be. No one could fault her logic in taking Prince Fyren for a mate, or in not allowing the thief's hand to be regrown.

No one except her old friend Zedd. He refuses to listen to reason. He even tries to induce the others to help him plot against her!

The treasonous old fool is soon joined by his companions, the Seeker, the Mord'Sith, and a woman who looks exactly like the Mother Confessor would look if she were still wearing her traveling dress, her hair was an unruly mess, and she'd taken leave of her _senses._

Which is what all three of them have done if they expect her to give mercy to a _traitor._ That is against the Law.

It doesn't take the Mother Confessor long to realize the truth: they're all criminals. And she will see them suffer as the Law demands for their treason against her if it's the last thing she does!

She isn't torn at all.


	6. Denna's Honor

** Denna's Honor**

"The Mother Confessor is a woman of honor," Cara corrects me. "She spared my life even after she found out I killed her sister."

Thanks for that. Cara's always been predictable. She used to babble on about Lord Rahl's honor, too (the real Lord Rahl, not Richard; they say he's dead. I won't believe it until I spit on his corpse myself).

I won't say the plan sprang into my mind entire. But honestly, what does a dead Confessor Underworldbent on revenge, plus a trained Wizard specializing in necromancy at my beck and call, suggest to _you_?

"Safe journey, Cara. I'll take good care of Richard." _He's mine._

"If he has so much as a scratch when I get back…you'll be sorry, Denna." _You won't be coming back._

I smirk as she walks away. Our Cara, always Lord Rahl's favorite. She's Richard's First Mistress, too.

Well, not anymore.

Honor is for fools.


	7. Just a Saving People Thing?

**Just a Saving People Thing?**

Her skin. Her scent. It's enough to drive him insane.

She is surely a demon, sent to befuddle his senses and distract him from his quest.

No—she's a woman in pain, he can feel it—like a bitter sore festering in her soul.

It's fascinating.

It's terrifying—this woman wears his love's fate like a velvet cloak, wrapped tight about those slim shoulders…

Her steps don't falter, but the tiny frown lines between her eyes tell him there's hope.

He wants to rescue her from herself. He wants _her_.

"Richard," Nicci says, snapping her fingers in front of his face. "Focus, please. The Stone of Tears isn't going to find itself—and your Mother Confessor's life is mine."

She's a nightmare—she's a curse. She could be Kahlan's death.

Richard is just lucky his compass doesn't point to his heart (or his body's) desire.


	8. Learn Something New

**Learn Something New…**

"So how do you kill these things, again?" Cara demanded exasperatedly. The tiny orange ball of fluff puffed up into a slightly larger ball of fluff, with red eyes and surprisingly sharp fangs.

Cara brandished her agiel at it. The creature bristled, barring its fangs.

"Why don't you try rolling your eyes at it?" the Wizard suggested.

Cara started to roll her eyes—then she turned and glowered at him.

"Zedd!" Richard called. He was holding off several of the tiny beasts at once, while they snapped their fangs for his blood.

The Mother Confessor was crooning to the nearest creature—"Aww, aren't you the cutest thing? You don't really want to hurt us, do you?" showing _she_ had no sense at all.

The Wizard sighed, but extended his hands, sending ice at the creatures. Cara felt the chill, its touch as sharp as a dagger.

"Why didn't you do that to begin with?" she complained.

"I _have_ had experience in these matters," the Wizard said reprovingly.

Cara sniffed, and examined Richard for lingering fluff balls carefully. Protecting him was her duty, but those things—

Cara hated having to fight something she thought was cuter than she was.


	9. Three Mistresses

**Three Mistresses**

A Confessor, a Mord'Sith, and a Sister of the Dark walk into an inn.

"We're full up," says the innkeeper. She's had a look at these three, and she doesn't want any trouble.

"I'm sure you can find room for us—somewhere," says the Confessor, putting back her hood. The Mord'Sith's fingers brush her agiels. The Sister of the Dark just raises her eyebrows, and quaffs her ale.

The innkeeper gulps, but she is a brave woman. "All right," she says, "one room." They start to protest, and she holds up a hand, addressing all of them and each of them at once. "I don't care how Platonic your relationship is—you and your friends are going to have to share."

All three of them look blank:

"What's share?" says the Confessor.

"What's Platonic?" says the Mord'Sith.

"What's friend?" says the Sister of the Dark.


	10. Taking It Back

**Taking it Back**

Kahlan woke from a strange dream, in which she wore leather and killed the dead.

She felt troubled, and at once remembered the reason—Richard was gone, trying to find Jennsen.

But soon he would return, and they would be a happy family—she and Richard, Jennsen, Zedd, (incredible as it seemed) Darken Rahl—and her baby. Their daughter.

_Grow, grow_, Kahlan thought, touching her middle. She sent the happiest thoughts she could muster, to nurture her child. Richard's daughter.

Later, when Richard was gone, taken from Kahlan as swiftly and surely as if he were dead, and the blonde woman lay unconscious on the ground, as she helped Zedd tie her to a tree (a woman she'd never met—Kahlan couldn't imagine what fate she now helped doom this Cara Mason to), Kahlan wished she could take it back.

_Don't grow, don't be real, don't be_—

Richard was gone.

Kahlan was a Confessor—always, she had believed she would raise her daughters alone, with only the Confessed to be her babysitters.

But she had found Richard—she'd found hope.

And she couldn't do this alone.


	11. Zedd's Fears

**Zedd's Fears**

_Embrace the one in red…_

It was the only condition of Shota's prophecy that worried Zedd more than what she'd said about Richard giving the Stone of Tears to the Keeper.

This woman, this Mord'Sith—

Of course, Zedd realized that if Richard had taken on the title and responsibilities of Lord Rahl, she would have been one of many sworn to serve him.

But this was worse—somehow more intimate. The easy camaraderie between them as they set up camp, the Mord'Sith's sharp tongue neither hurting nor offending Richard—the way Kahlan's eyes followed every move the Mord'Sith made, every casual touch, every breath.

There would be trouble soon. Zedd could feel it coming, and wondered if this was what Shota had meant.

Confessors and Mord'Sith were not meant to mix, and if Richard wasn't careful—

But the boy had always been headstrong. He believed anyone could be saved.

It was his greatest strength—but might it yet prove his greatest weakness?


	12. Lost Lord

**Lost Lord**

Today was a strange day. Darken couldn't shake the thought that there was something he was supposed to be doing.

And he couldn't stop thinking about Cara.

The day they first met—the color of her hair, like sunlight and honey (not that he was of a poetical turn of mind), her fierce savagery—she was by far the best warrior he'd ever had, and one of the few people whose advice he ever listened to—one of the few people who dared give him advice.

And then she turned against him for Richard (always Richard), and he woke in the Underworld.

Furious, Darken paced the room, glaring indiscriminately. He needed something to cool his blood.

On balance, Darken thought later that the bath had been a mistake.

If only Richard had never been born, Darken lamented, closing his eyes and wishing for Cara's warm body in the water beside him.

All Darken's troubles were because of Richard. Why else would he feel so…inadequate? If, at their first sight of Richard, Darken could no longer keep his subordinates' loyalty—how could he ever expect to regain his lost throne?

The dacras' hiss woke him from his abstraction—and he smiled viciously at _darling _Sister Nicci.

She was not to know how relieved he was for the distraction.


	13. The Proper Incentive

**The Proper Incentive**

The Queen of Tamarang was a nuisance. "Agree to whatever she wishes," Darken said impatiently to General Egremont for what must have been the fiftieth time. Why was he burdened with this wholly unnecessary report?

"Yes, my Lord," Egremont said, "But this part here, where the Queen asks for total freedom from taxation—"

Darken whirled, turning on Egremont and snatching the parchment from his hand. He tossed it contemptuously to the floor, not even bothering to throw it on the fire. It was of no importance.

"If that is the proper incentive," he said softly, "by all means, let Tamarang be declared a tax-free zone."

As though, once he had the power of Orden, they would not all be falling over themselves to give him whatever he wished. Perhaps he could indeed do away with state-mandated taxes—make it a voluntary sign of devotion.

Darken's lips curved upward at the thought—he might organize it after he received the daily loyalty oath. How appropriate.

As for the Queen of Tamarang—she was not even worthy of his ire. He remembered her well—would the Keeper even consider her soul adequate recompense for a day in the Land of the Living? It seemed such a small, shrinking thing.

The cost of living was going down all the time. Darken smirked in anticipation.


	14. Kahlan's Joy

**Kahlan's Joy**

Before the four of them resumed their quest, Kahlan found time to get a few moments alone with Dennee. Well—almost alone. Dennee cuddled the baby—the woman Lucinda's son—on her lap.

In spite of everything Dennee had endured, Kahlan couldn't hep feeling a little jealous.

"What are you going to—what's his name?" Kahlan asked.

"Bernard," Dennee said seriously. She pulled Bernard up so he was standing, facing over her shoulder and away from Kahlan, and then looked at her sister. "I should have gone back to the Underworld. I don't belong here. This—isn't my life."

"It is now," Kahlan told her firmly.

"But I—" Dennee started.

"No," Kahlan put her hands on Dennee's knees. "Dennee, you have _no idea_ how happy I am—the joy it gives me, to have you back. I love you. You're not doing anything wrong."

Dennee smiled tremulously, and Kahlan smiled, too, and carefully didn't mention how grateful she was that Dennee, not Lucinda, not anyone else, sat beside her.

She had her little sister back—her joy was incandescent. Guilt had no place in it.

And Kahlan grinned.


	15. Loving Kindness

Cara/Dahlia, during Eternity

**Loving Kindness**

Cara lies dead on the ground. Beaten and bloody. Broken.

On the ground—that's not right. Dahlia picks her up, carries her upstairs, to a soft bed.

Lord Rahl taps the Underworld-cursed agiel against his cheek, but doesn't follow. He and Dahlia both know this is it—Cara's broken. When she wakes, she'll be part of the family again.

Dahlia purrs her satisfaction as she bends over Cara, her eyes fluttering shut as she summons the Breath of Life.

She leans back and watches Cara's bruises fade, her eyes open.

Gently, Dahlia strokes Cara's hair, bending over her, staring into those beautiful green eyes…

Cara is more comfortable on the bed.

It's these little kindnesses that matter.


	16. The Magic Snowflake

Rahl/Cara, pre-series, prompt: snowflake

**The Magic Snowflake**

Snow was so rare in D'Hara that Cara couldn't remember ever having seen it, since she was a little girl (and she tried never to think of that).

So, on Creatormas Eve, she wasn't surprised to find the sky resolutely clear and the air stubbornly dry; her disappointment made her cranky, though, and when she kicked her latest pet so hard in the stomach that he flew out of his chains and rebounded from the dungeon wall, even Dahlia gave her an odd look and left her to her own devices.

About dinnertime, Denna came to the door and said snidely, "When you're done, Lord Rahl requires your presence."

Cara, aware that Denna was only being extra snide because she hated being a messenger-girl, smiled sharply. "You may tell Lord Rahl that I will attend him directly," she said, in a fine ladylike tone wholly belied by her coiled posture. She was ready for a fight—indeed, she was itching for it.

Denna gave her a long, speculative look, hands going for her agiels—Cara tensed eagerly, longing for someone on whom to take out her holiday blues—

But then Denna just smiled and said, too sweetly, "Happy Creatormas, Cara," and flounced off.

Defeated, Cara tossed her long braid so that it smacked against her back, spared not a glance for her new pet (whose continued survival, no matter what the Breath of Life had to do with anything, was a marvel), and went to find Lord Rahl.

He was seated in the throne room, idly examining a small, glass cube. Cara supposed this must be his latest amusement, and devoutly trusted he would not require her to make towers of blocks with him (Lord Rahl's childhood had allowed few opportunities for youthful exuberance—he made up for this lack by playing games with his Mord'Sith).

"Ah, Cara," purred Lord Rahl. "It has come to my attention that your Sisters have found you a sad trial this year."

"My Lord," said Cara respectfully, trying to bury her tempestuous feelings. Now was not the time for her Creatormas issues.

"Do you not enjoy the beauty of our great land?" Lord Rahl asked.

Prudently, Cara remained silent. As always, however, she was struck by the beauty of our great Lord.

"Come here," said Lord Rahl. "I have a gift for you." Warily, Cara approached.

Lord Rahl turned the glass cube in his hands, and, before Cara's eyes, a huge, intricate snowflake appeared, spinning within it.

"Oh," Cara gasped involuntarily. It was beautiful.

"It is as unique as you are," Lord Rahl said, watching her.

Impulsively, Cara reached up to Lord Rahl and pulled him down into a very passionate kiss—

What she couldn't express in words, she could in action.

Unobtrusively, she slipped the magic snowflake into the bodice of her leathers; she was giving Lord Rahl no chance to reclaim it.


	17. The Good Student

Zedd, Thaddicus, pre-series

**The Good Student**

"Zeh-edd," whined Thaddicus. "Want to play the Finding Game?"

"No," Zeddicus Zu'l Zorander, teenage Wizard, said shortly, staring at the thick book open in front of him.

"Oh, come on," Thaddicus begged. "Please?"

"Can't," Zedd said, trying to focus on the words in front of him. "Leave me alone."

"Fine," Thaddicus said angrily. "You're no fun, anyway!"

As he stomped off, Zedd put his head in his hands. The words swam before his eyes, but his father's orders rang in his ears: "I expect you to finish this chapter on Elemental Summoning Rituals by the time I return. Stop slacking off, Zeddicus. It's time to get serious."

Zedd blinked away angry tears—he would never be good enough for his father.

Still—the books held a certain fascination. There was so much to learn.


	18. Then and Now

Richard/Kahlan, post-series

**Then and Now**

"And then your father put the Stone of Tears between the Pillars and sealed the Rift; the sun came pouring through the clouds and shone through the Stone, and the Keeper screamed, and the world was safe again," Kahlan told her two little daughters, Dennee and Taralyn.

"Promise?" Dennee asked, from where she huddled under the covers, "Promise the Keeper isn't coming for us?"

"The Keeper won't get you, Nee-Nee," Kahlan promised.

"He's not under the bed, anyway," said Tari, with the assurance of one who had looked. "Mother, tell the part about Aunt Cara pretending to be a princess again!"

Kahlan laughed. Cara's brief sojourn as a princess in the Margrave of Rothenberg's palace was a popular and far more light-hearted story.

As she embarked upon it, however, Kahlan dwelt still on her memories of the day they had sealed the Rift—much of it remained a thankful blur, but when she had come out of the Con Dar to find her dagger buried in Richard's chest—that image, and her attendant guilt, would be with her all her life.

She could only marvel that Richard had forgiven her.

She would not recount to her daughters the moment Richard had taken her into his arms, the Creator's light shining around them, and kissed her, and she had known that not only did he forgive her—he believed there was nothing to forgive.

Watching their daughters' intent little faces, Kahlan thought perhaps that was the sweetest memory of all.


	19. Snarled

Kahlan's hair, during _Princess_

**Snarled**

Kahlan Amnell's hair prided itself on being the most lustrous, the most epic, of any other hair in the Midlands—or, indeed, the world.

Today though—dungeons were absolutely ruinous, Kahlan's hair thought. The damp made it frizz, the dirt that lodged near Kahlan's scalp meant it would need another washing before the week was out—it was too bad, because the soap irritated Kahlan's hair, and drying was a long and arduous process, so that to suffer through it more than once a week was the outside of enough—

What was more, Kahlan's hair was used to a good and thorough brushing every night before bed, but if there was anything so genteel as a brush in this dirty dungeon, Kahlan's hair would own itself astonished.

Kahlan's fingers, distracted and stiff from rattling the bars, made a poor substitute, and Kahlan's hair thought longingly of Richard's gentle hands running through it, or Cara's—even more gentle, as though afraid of breaking something, or of trailing old blood through Kahlan's hair…

Kahlan's hair wasn't jealous of Cara's—for one thing, Cara's hair was too short, and cut in a shocking way. Kahlan's hair was proud to say it had never allowed scissors dangerously close. Furthermore, Cara's hair was gold, and thus made an excellent foil for Kahlan's.

That Kahlan's hair should be in the same cell with the Margrave of Rothenberg's pitiful, matted, dull brown wife's hair was truly passing all bounds. If only Richard and Cara were here.

Kahlan's hair was definitely in a Mood.


	20. The Sense of Hearing

Cara/Dahlia, during Eternity

**The Sense of Hearing**

"Amazing grace…"

Grace—Cara's eyes filled with tears at the thought of her sister. The pain receded, to be replaced by all Cara's regret, that she had been such a poor sister to Grace, whose husband might make Cara's fingers itch for her agiels, but who was surely not to blame for the mess Cara had made of their lives—depriving Grace, at one blow, of mother, father, and sister.

"How sweet the sound…" Dahlia was closer now, singing in Cara's ear. She reached up to stroke Cara's hair, making a faint sound of distaste at how short it was.

Dahlia's face swam before Cara's eyes. Her lips were so red…

"That saved a wretch…" Dahlia pulled back and struck Cara across the face with her agiel; the surprise, as much as anything else, made Cara utter a faint scream just as Dahlia raised her voice triumphantly: "like me!"

A wretch, indeed, Cara thought. All she had done—was she a fool to think it possible to escape her past? It stood before her in human form—Dahlia, and somewhere, no doubt peacefully napping, Darken Rahl.

But she would not even think of him.

Nor would she ever give her former lovers the satisfaction of knowing that the fate of her son had already done much to break her.

She had been a fool ever to expect better from Darken Rahl—but that Dahlia could betray her like this—

"I once was lost…" Dahlia sang pointedly. Cara quite agreed—but she was lost no longer.

Richard. Kahlan. Even Zedd. Cara had real friends now—who would never betray her. "But now am found," she sang softly, smiling through her cracked lips.

Dahlia screamed her frustration—but Cara was no longer listening.


	21. Traveling Companions

Cara/Leo, Kahlan

**Traveling Companions**

The Mother Confessor is a mystery. Leo can't quite bring himself to call her Kahlan—somehow, her air of tragedy makes informality impossible.

The Wizard he understands—Zedd is cautious and wise and disapproving, all the things one would expect.

And Cara is an altogether different kind of mystery—sly looks and surprised laughs, sharp tongue and easy to provoke. She's the sort of mystery Leo has always wanted to have in his life.

But the Mother Confessor—her sorrow sets Leo's teeth on edge. True, they are trying to prevent the entire Land of the Living from being destroyed—but does she have to be so tragic all the time?

At first, she reminded Leo of the fairy queen that must be saved—now she's starting to get on his nerves. Why can't she lighten up already?


	22. The New Girl

Garen, Cara/Dahlia, Denna, Triana, pre-series

**The New Girl**

Garen dumped her bag on the fifth bed, the one squeezed between the door and the closet, furthest from the window. She didn't bother putting her meager belongings neatly away, guessing her new roommates would go through everything anyway.

Net that she cared—Mord'Sith learned not to place much value in tangible objects (save their agiels, and Garen was never without hers).

Garen was, of course, thrilled to be here, at a well-known temple within a day's ride of the People's Palace, but she couldn't help wishing junior Mistresses of the Mord'Sith got their own rooms. Who knew what the others would be like?

"Gotcha!" A laughing voice exclaimed, as a warm, compact body cannoned into Garen's, pushing her back on the bed. A blonde braid tickled her chin as an agiel was pressed to her heart—

When Garen woke, the blonde girl with the wicked laugh was perched above her, head titled to one side. "So you're the new girl, huh?" she asked Garen casually.

This was Denna.

Garen next made the acquaintance of two more of her roommates, who came in already doing things to one another that might make anyone but a Mord'Sith blush. The golden-blonde one let go of her companion just long enough to shove, one-handed, two beds together under the window, but that pause was long enough to make the red lips of her companion pout adorably. Garen's eyes widened when the honey-blonde bit that extended bottom lip and—

That was Cara and Dahlia.

Denna rolled her eyes, and pulled Garen to her feet. "They're always like that," she explained. "And you can forget about joining in—Cara's so possessive."

Bemused, as she always was after being killed and revived, Garen let Denna take her to the baths.

They both stripped, and Denna dove into the deep end, her hair a pale sunlit banner behind her—much prettier, Garen feared, than her own.

"You must be Garen," said Garen's last roommate, a brunette like herself. She leaned against the edge of the pool. "Let me wash your back."

Not unwilling, Garen slid into the water.

"So," her last roommate asked, would-be casually, "you've seen Lord Rahl, haven't you? Did he give you a new assignment for us?" She was eager.

This was Triana.

"The rebel leader at Deerfork," Garen reported, and Denna swam closer, and then somehow Cara and Dahlia were in the doorway, still wrapped up in one another, but not about to miss orders from Lord Rahl.

And Garen thought this wouldn't be so bad, after all. Her Sisters might have their eccentricities, but they would guard her back.

How not? They were all on the same side.


	23. Mother Ocean

Darken Rahl/Nicci, post-Tears

**Mother Ocean**

The waves lapped at the shore, their repetitive crashing soothing to Darken's nerves. There was something powerfully majestic about the ocean—even the Power of Orden could not have commanded the water back.

"The Pillars of Creation were once a barren desert," Nicci observed. She sat with her legs pulled up to her chin, arms wrapped around her calves, staring at the waves. Her Rada'Han glinted in the fading sunlight.

Darken was surprised to find how little he minded her intrusion on his abstraction. His Mord'Sith waited patiently for him, out of earshot.

"A reward for my brother, perhaps," Darken mused, after a moment. "What a waste for the Creator, if he should die of starvation before receiving proper accolades."

For it was not only the ocean that was different—the Pillars themselves were still surrounded by sand, but the remaining land was sprouting green shoots—new growth. Someday it would be a forest.

"Or an insult to the Keeper," Nicci suggested. She looked up at him, her eyes narrowed. "He is not pleased with you."

She should know—Darken recalled the stricken look in her eyes when he'd had her revived. A thrill of terror touched his soul at the thought of the Keeper's displeasure, but he ignored it.

"Surely He is the only one," Darken said caustically, thinking of Richard. Would helping him lead to further control over the situation, or merely being asked to officiate Richard's wedding to Kahlan?

"Oh, yes," Nicci agreed.

Darken looked at her in surprise, and she twinkled at him, inviting him to share her amusement.

"I _love_ you," Nicci said sardonically. She shook her head, so her pale hair caught the fading light as it cascaded over her back.

Darken marveled that she could so make light of her captivity—with a Rada'Han around her neck, and Mord'Sith only steps away, she was surely at his mercy.

"Whom would you rather serve?" Darken asked, consumed by curiosity. "Myself, or the Keeper?"

Her eyes flashed fire at that. "I serve no Master, Darken Rahl—save perhaps the sea," she added, with a brave laugh.

"We will see," Darken said, and crooked his fingers to summon his Mord'Sith. The shadows were lengthening—his moment of peace was at an end.

He would have Nicci's Han, and she would fight him every step of the way—Darken couldn't wait.


	24. His Quest

Richard/Kahlan, Cara/Leo, slight Kahlan/Cara

**His Quest**

Kahlan hated this. It had been bad enough when Richard had first gone with the Sisters of the Light, and she and Cara had followed Zedd—sometimes she and Cara were alone anyway, so it felt normal, almost.

But then they'd found Zedd, and they'd told him of Richard's headaches being strong enough to kill that one Sister of the Light—Kahlan, conscience-stricken, realized they should have done the funeral rights for her, but Cara scoffed, "If she wanted to kill herself—"

"For your Lord Rahl," Kahlan had said dangerously. And Kahlan had gotten her way.

But now—Kahlan walked beside Cara, loving and hating the look in Cara's eyes when they alighted on Leo. Now she knew how Cara must've felt, watching her with Richard.

If Kahlan had her choice, she would have gone with Richard—even into the Underworld. She would make nothing of cooling her heels while Richard learnt to control the magic in his blood—maybe the Sisters of the Light would even have a few tricks they had disdained to teach her as a girl, on controlling magic.

Sometimes Kahlan thought she almost had the trick of it—she could be with Richard and not Confess him. She just had to concentrate.

But Richard's quest was too important. Someone had to save the Land of the Living. Kahlan couldn't let Richard come back, only to find she had failed him.

His quest was what mattered. Kahlan wouldn't let herself blame Leo. She wouldn't let herself blame Zedd. And most especially, she wouldn't let herself blame Richard.

These things happened. It was no one's fault.

"Doesn't the Mother Confessor like me?" Leo complained to Zedd. And Kahlan, brushing back angry tears from her eyes, stopped and waited for them to pass out of earshot.

"Richard," she murmured, as though merely saying his name could bring him closer to her.

Cara, watching her with eyes narrowed, for once had no caustic comment. Instead, she drew Kahlan's arm through hers, and together, they walked on.


	25. Rachel's Shadows

Rachel, during Marked

**Rachel's Shadows**

I'm lost again. In danger. I hate how helpless I feel.

But I remember Richard and Kahlan, who are so brave—and Ruben (his name is Zedd, but he'll always be Ruben to me) who made me be that brave, too.

"Hush, it's going to be okay," I say softly to one of the other girls.

But the scary woman in red is there—"Why don't we start your training right now?"

I know what she's talking about—everyone does. Grown-ups always say the girls the Mord'Sith have taken are dead, but that's a lie. They just wish they were.

I can relate—or I could when I was with Princess Violet.

It's funny—back then, if the Mord'Sith had come and taken me, I would've been glad. Even Darken Rahl would have been a better Master than Violet.

Now I just wish Martha were here. She loves me—I'm not alone anymore.

And Richard and Kahlan and Ruben will come save us. So I'm not afraid of the shadows.

Never again.


	26. The Marshmallow Zone

**The Marshmallow Zone**

"Snow!" Cara exclaimed happily. She stuck out her tongue, trying to catch a snowflake.

Richard and Kahlan glanced at one another, smiling, and then away; Cara was just like a child, sometimes.

Zedd scrutinized the falling flakes. Although, come to think of it, they were a bit more cylindrical in shape than flakes…"This is no snow," Zedd said slowly.

Cara, having just caught a bit of the not-snow on her tongue, sucked on it in a way that wasn't at all childlike.

Richard and Kahlan exchanged another look—this one not so innocent. Then Kahlan blushed, and looked at the ground.

"It tastes sweet," commented Cara. "Like…"

Kahlan bent, and picked up a handful of the not-snowflakes. They weren't melting in her hands in the usual way, either. In fact, they weren't even very cold…

"We've entered a Marshmallow Zone," Zedd said solemnly.

Richard goggled at him. "What?"

"I thought those were a myth," protested Kahlan. Yet she held the proof in her hands.

Cara smiled. "I heard Marshmallow Zones are places where no magic works, save its inherent enchantment of course—"

"We should be out of the worst of it by tomorrow," Zedd said reassuringly.

Richard and Kahlan eyed one another. No magic?

But realistically, how long before some poor innocent villagers needed their help—time to seize the moment.

"I'm going hunting!" Kahlan said quickly.

"I'll come with you!" Richard exclaimed.

"Just you and—" Zedd began, nodding at Cara, but before he could complete the thought, Richard and Kahlan had each grabbed one of her arms and dragged her into the bushes with them.

Cara, after a surprised beat, smirked, and licked her lips.

"—me," Zedd finished. He sat on a tree stump, popped a marshmallow in his mouth, and prepared for a long wait.


	27. Sibling Rivalry

Title: Sibling Rivalry  
Characters/Pairing: Cara, Denna, slight Cara/Dahlia and Rahl/Cara  
Length: ~500  
Rating: PG-13  
Spoilers: none, pre-series  
Summary: for the Siblings challenge on **legendland**. Cara gets singled out by Lord Rahl, and Denna is jealous.

**Sibling Rivalry**

Cara spat out a mouthful of blonde braid and shoved her knee into Denna's stomach—

Denna had lost her gloves at some point during the fight, and now she reached up, face contorted, and raked her nails down Cara's cheek, drawing blood—

Cara ignored Denna, and tightened her hands around Denna's throat—

Denna's fist connected with Cara's jaw, and Cara caught her wrist—with her other hand, she drew her agiel and smoothly jammed it against Denna's chest, right over her heart.

Denna slumped, eyes drifting shut, limbs suddenly slack.

Cara smirked.

"Now," breathed Lord Rahl, over her shoulder, "the real test…"

For the first time, Cara looked around. Lord Rahl was standing over her, watching with feigned impassivity—she saw the gleam in his swiftly hooded eyes. Pride made her straighten her spine. She knew Lord Rahl had been watching her.

Dahlia and Triana appeared over Cara's other shoulder, both looking remarkably disheveled. But Cara knew, by Triana's proprietary arm over Dahlia's shoulder, and the way Dahlia was biting her lip, Triana had won their battle. Her eyes narrowed—if Triana thought this was over—

In theory, they had all already graduated to the rank of junior Mistress—else Lord Rahl would never have given them their new powers. These little fights to the death were meant to test their grasp of the Breath of Life.

Nonetheless, the Sister who was the victor automatically gained more honor than the loser.

Reminded, by Mistress Nathair's significant frown, Cara bent over Denna and summoned the Breath of Life for the first time.

It seemed to dwell deep within her, like a candle flickering under her skin. It was so beautiful—Cara watched, bemused, as the Breath of Life left her lips and entered Denna's.

Denna woke beautifully, too; then awareness came back into her face. She smiled sharply, a promise of retribution to come.

Cara managed to jam her elbow into Denna's side as she got up off her, rolling easily to her feet.

They stood in a line, and Lord Rahl paced in front of them, staring into their eyes.

He came to Cara last, taking her chin in his fingers. She tried to stare calmly back, lest her apprehension show.

"You have pleased me—Mistress Cara," he said, and released her.

When Lord Rahl was gone, in a swirl of robes, Dahlia, Denna and Triana clustered around Cara.

"Supposing he rewards you?" Dahlia said gleefully. Alone of all of them, she didn't sound jealous. She did playfully mark Cara's ear, though, as if staking a claim. Cara's arm went around her waist.

"Why you?" complained Triana. "What does a man like Lord Rahl—" reverently—"see in_ you_?"

"Our Cara, born under a lucky star," Denna said sourly.

Mistress Nathair put a hand on her shoulder proudly. "Congratulations, Cara," she said, and Cara glowed under her praise.

If she'd still been an innocent little girl, Cara would've stuck her tongue out at Denna.


	28. His Heart was Hers

Inspiration: "He'd have to break eventually. They all broke." from a drabble by **alorarose**, for a legendland challenge.  
Characters/Pairing: Denna/Richard  
Length: ~250

**His Heart was Hers**

He thought he could escape her—the fool.

Every time he twisted out of her grasp, it was the Mother Confessor's fault. When first she had trained him, a piece of her had lodged in his heart. A piece of ice in that warm, impossible goodness. He would have to break eventually. They all broke.

But before it could harden him completely, break him to her every whim, make him like her—hollow inside—the Mother Confessor had come and won his freedom with her deceit.

And then he had held the power of Orden in his grasp, and the Mother Confessor had been nothing more than his slave—

And then she'd sent his soul to the Underworld, for he was filled with goodness and light and everything sweet and pure—

And at least she could control his body.

But she'd been wrong about that. It was he who was filled with darkness. And when they met for the fourth time, she would twist until that shard of ice in his heart turned him, once and for all, into hers.

Cara's arrow in her chest, her fall from that cliff—

He would see. It took more than that to kill a Mord'Sith.

And one day, Denna's poison would work its way all through Richard's vulnerable heart, and he would be a kind-hearted Seeker no longer.

He thought he had escaped her...

And Denna smiled, and her smile was full of wicked promise.

Richard was hers. Nothing could change that.


	29. A Perfect Morning

Characters/Pairing: Richard/Kahlan, Cara  
Length: 255

** A Perfect Morning**

"Good morning," Richard said, as Kahlan opened her eyes.

"How long have you been awake?" Kahlan asked, pouting. "You might have woken me up, too, and then we could have..." her voice trailed off suggestively, as her fingers trailed a gentle path down Richard's bare chest.

He grabbed her fingers, twining them with his. "That tickles! I wanted to let you sleep. You were up all night with Caralyn again, weren't you? I told you I'll take my turn-you need your rest."

Kahlan smiled, his concern for her making her forgive him everything—not that there was anything to forgive. He was the kindest, bravest man in all the Midlands—and he was hers.

"Actually," she said playfully, smiling up at him, where he watched her on his elbow. "You'll have to take my turns for me soon enough—it seems Caralyn is going to get a little sister."

"You're sure?" Richard asked, his smile becoming, if possible, wider. But he didn't wait for her reply; he ran his fingers over her stomach, wonder in his eyes. "We're having another baby?"

Kahlan laughed. "I'm sure. Daddy."

Richard dropped a kiss on Kahlan's hair, and from there it seemed very natural that he migrated to her lips. Kahlan smiled and smiled, and they both forgot entirely about the responsibilities of the day.

Cara listened briefly at their door before rolling her eyes, and going off to convince Dahlia to pack a picnic lunch for Cara and her namesake. It looked like she was babysitting again.


	30. A Powerful Ally

Inspiration: 'Richard is ticklish' from a drabble by **alyse** for a challenge on legendland.  
Characters: Richard, Kahlan, Cara, Zedd  
Length: 624  
**  
**

**A Powerful Ally**

"Give it to me!" Cara grabbed for the map, but Richard held it high over her head, laughing.

Cara stepped back a pace and glared. She was too short to reach the map, but she had to see for herself—it couldn't really say they had to tramp through the entire Fyell Swamp just to get to the jewel that would save the villagers from the magical plague. Going through the swamp would take days, and there was nowhere they'd be able to sleep (Cara wasn't letting any of the nasty, creepy-crawly creatures from the swamp find a home in _her_ leathers.)

Richard grinned unrepentantly at her.

"This is all your fault," Cara complained. "You and your saving-people-thing."

"We're going through the Swamp," Richard said, his voice serious but his eyes dancing. "You swore to serve me as your Lord Rahl, remember?"

Cara wasn't about to go down without a fight. Kahlan and Zedd, watching interestedly, refused to help her. They were no doubt enamored of the idea of wading through the swamp. Anything to help poor defenseless people, who would be better served if Richard stopped wasting time and found the Stone of Tears. So Cara launched herself at Richard, tackling him to the ground.

"Hey!" Richard protested. "Cara! Watch it, you're—protect me, Kahlan!" his eyes rolled comically in her direction, but Cara wasn't going to be distracted by the Mother Confessor. Not this time.

(Kahlan, of all people, ought to be especially thankful to escape the swamp—her hair, not to mention her Confessor's dress, would never survive the trip.)

Kahlan took the map from Richard's hands and peered at it, making no other move to intercede. "Oh, Cara," she added offhandedly. "Richard is ticklish."

"Kahlan!" Richard protested, at this betrayal. Cara, grinning, started tickling him unmercifully. So he thought he could make her walk through the swamp, did he?

"Never anger a Mord'Sith," Zedd said pompously, when Cara finally let Richard to his feet.

Richard glared at his grandfather. "Kind of figured that out for myself, thanks."

Cara let two fingers just barely touch Richard's side. He flinched and laughed, saying, "Cara, have mercy!"

"I know we can't go around the swamp," Kahlan said, looking up from the map. "But why don't we just use this pass, in the middle?"

"What pass?" Richard demanded, snatching the map back and peering at it short-sightedly. Cara wondered if, in addition to being ticklish, her Lord Rahl was half-blind...and sighed.

"Wizard's Pass, guaranteed warm and dry," Zedd read, over Richard's shoulder. "I suppose..."

Cara had her doubts—wizards were notoriously tricky. But anything was better than wading through the wet swamp with no hope at all.

"Let's do it," she said firmly. "That plaguebane jewel isn't going to find itself...Seeker."

"I suppose if it's a trap, we can still always go through the swamp," Zedd said, as though trying to reassure himself and the others. "We won't be entirely dependent on this strange magic."

Cara raised her eyebrows at Kahlan, but Kahlan shook her head sadly. "No, Zedd's not ticklish," she said. "Just perpetually hungry. I'm sure you can work out how to punish him most effectively."

"I like the way you think, Mother Confessor," Cara purred, and Zedd looked alarmed.

"Never anger a Mord'Sith," Richard mused. "You know, that's actually some pretty good advice..."

Zedd disdained to answer, but there was no denying he looked apprehensive. As he should. Cara was used to getting her way, and besides, she had a powerful ally to her cause in the Mother Confessor.

Tossing her loose hair over her shoulder, Cara let her fingertips brush her agiels. One way or another, it was going to be an interesting—and dry—journey through the Fyell Swamp.


	31. Not So Different

Characters: Kahlan, Denna, referenced Cara and Richard  
Length: 503  
**  
**

**Not So Different**

"You know, we're not so different, you and I," Denna said casually, from where she reclined at her ease on a blood-red couch.

Kahlan stared at her, wishing for the Con Dar, because she was a Confessor—she really could kill Denna with a mere look.

After all she and Richard had been through, that they should get so far...the Veil to the Underworld was sealed, peace was being restored, village by village, to the war-torn Midlands...and now, here they were, held captive once more by Denna, who by rights should be dead, in a D'Haran prison.

Kahlan couldn't see how so little could have changed. And her whole soul cried out for Richard.

"I am nothing like you," she said contemptuously, not caring that she was comparatively helpless, where she hung in her chains. Denna hadn't bound her with a Rada'Han (perhaps she didn't possess one?), but without the Con Dar, Kahlan was basically powerless.

"Both strong—too strong to accept another's rule over us," Denna went on, watching Kahlan intently. "I know you would do anything for Richard, and I assure you, you'll have to: the townspeople will hang him tomorrow for causing the plague of banelings that kept farmers from their crops during that horrible year...unless someone were to intercede for him."

Kahlan played for time, in spite of her horror that anyone could blame Richard for the banelings sent by the Keeper in His bid to claim the Land of the Living. "Why would you do that?"

Denna shrugged one elegant shoulder. "Richard is still Lord Rahl," she said carelessly, "even if he refuses to claim the title. And Lord Rahl needs a First Mistress."

Kahlan was aghast (and, she admitted secretly to herself, a little awed) at Denna's effrontery. "You think torturing me will make Richard trust you?" she asked, incredulously.

Before Denna could answer, Kahlan caught a flicker of movement behind Denna out of the corner of her eye. She knew that sardonic expression, eyebrows raised and eyes rolling upward, anywhere, and her heart lifted.

"Richard is already mine," Denna hissed. She sprang forward and grabbed Kahlan's hair in a punishing grip. "He always has been. Your image may be stamped on his heart, but even you can't erase my mark there. Someday Richard will lay waste to this world, with me by his side—and you will be my slave."

Kahlan tilted her head, to ease the strain of her pulled hair and to keep Denna's attention focused on her. There was a glimmer of blonde hair behind the ornate screen...

"There is one difference between us, Denna," she said sweetly. "You see—" a rush of movement and Cara kicked Denna's legs out from under her—

Denna yanked out several strands of Kahlan's hair, and Kahlan finished, looking into Cara's eyes now, "_I_ have friends."

But as Cara unlocked Kahlan's chains, keeping a menacing foot at Denna's neck, Kahlan looked down into those proud eyes...

"You'll see," Denna said. "We're not so different, Kahlan Amnell..."


	32. Other Worlds

Inspiration: "Our planes of existence merged at this point for a moment..." from a drabble by **fox_in_time** for a challenge on legendland.  
Characters: Show!Richard, Show!Kahlan, Show!Zedd, Book!Kahlan  
Length: 676  
Warning: Not for book fans!  
**  
**

**Other Worlds**

"So then," the woman who looked like Kahlan sobbed, "I realized I'd Confessed Richard, not Darken Rahl, and the whole time he recited the Book of Counted Shadows I couldn't stop thinking about how I'd doomed him forever. But then somehow Darken Rahl picked the wrong Box of Orden to open, and he sort of shimmered and burned, but it took a long time so I went to find a nice quiet place to kill myself, so Richard would be free. And then I ended up here!"

Kahlan Amnell, Mother Confessor of the Midlands, stared down at her alternate self in some disbelief. If she and Richard had not just seen Darken Rahl burned by the fires of the Underworld before their very eyes when he unwisely interrupted the magical ritual that would leave Richard Confessed to Kahlan but Master of the Power of Orden, she would have believed this some trick of his for her discomfiture.

But Darken Rahl was dead, and the Boxes of Orden didn't open—Kahlan shuddered to think what they might contain, if they did.

"You Confessed Richard?" Kahlan demanded of the woman weeping on the ground. "How could you?"

Richard was all right—he had to be. This Alternate Kahlan must be talking about some Alternate Richard, who knew the Book of Counted Shadows by heart—Kahlan couldn't imagine her Richard memorizing the whole tedious thing. It had held crucial information, but, from what Richard had told her, it was hopelessly overwritten.

"It was a spell!" Alternate Kahlan wailed. "And if I don't kill myself, he'll be my slave forever! I have to get back to him!"

Kahlan felt exasperated. Didn't her alternate self ever do anything except cry?

"What's the matter?" Thank the Creator—Richard and Zedd came up behind Kahlan, and stared at Alternate Kahlan with her.

"Kahlan?" Richard said, confused.

"Richard!" Alternate Kahlan leapt to her feet and embraced Richard, while Kahlan frowned.

Alternate Kahlan pulled back and said in puzzlement, "But where's Denna's agiel? You carry it around with you everywhere."

Richard recoiled. "Why would I do that?" he demanded, shocked. "And who are you?"

"I'm Kahlan, the love of your life," Alternate Kahlan explained. "And I Confessed you, so now our lives are ruined and I have to kill myself, even though I'm the last Confessor and my line will die with me!"

"She just appeared out of nowhere, and—" Kahlan said. Then she frowned. "Wait—last Confessor? I'm not the last Confessor! And if I was, it would be my duty to take a mate and continue our line, not kill myself!"

"Ah," Zedd said, in a tone of satisfied understanding. "Clearly, this Kahlan is from another world. Our planes of existence merged at this point for a moment, and she appeared here."

"Send her back!" Kahlan demanded at once. "That is _not_ me, Zedd. All she does is cry and talk about killing herself! And she Confessed Richard!"

At that, Richard stepped away from Alternate Kahlan and closer to his own Kahlan, frowning. "Who are you, really?" he asked suspiciously.

"My Richard will kill you for kidnapping me!" Alternate Kahlan cried. "You'll see—he always defends me from insult! Even against ten-year-old girls! He'll make Princess Violet's fate look merciful!"

As Richard, Kahlan and Zedd exchanged looks, suddenly wondering just what, exactly, Princess Violet's fate had been, Alternate Kahlan glowered at Richard. "And you're nothing like my Richard!" she yelled. "You never would've let all those Mud People die just to protect me from Darken Rahl!"

With an angry flounce, Alternate Kahlan sank down on the grass again, and Zedd waved his hands, quickly, sending her back to whatever strange world she belonged in.

"Let's get out of here," Richard said fervently. "If that was _you_ from another universe, I don't think we want to meet me."

Kahlan gave the now-bare patch of grass one last look, and shuddered. She took Richard's hand in hers, and said dryly, "When you said I loved you across time...I hope this isn't what you meant."


	33. Lost in Time

Characters/Pairing: Richard/Cara, implied Richard/Kahlan  
Length: ~450

**Lost in Time  
**  
"I'm in love with someone else," he says, as if that can keep him safe. Richard won't look at Cara—she wants something from him, they all do. She's just like Denna, a Mord'Sith who will take his very soul if she can.

"I'm not talking about love," she whispers. Her skin is warm next to his. "I'm talking about pleasure."

Richard turns resolutely away, telling himself he's going to get Kahlan back, he has to...

In the morning, he wakes with Cara curled in his arms, her hair tickling his nose, and for a moment, he's so comfortable he doesn't ever want to get up.

They go on, of course; days turn to weeks, searching for the last vestiges of civilization, to tell them what happened to this dead world.

Part of Richard, a secret part that he keeps locked away in his heart, is furious with Kahlan for leaving him this mess. Is this the best legacy she could give to the world? Even if she was lost, Rahl's prisoner, alone...how could she destroy everything she and Richard and Zedd had ever worked for? How could anyone let this desolation happen?

Only Cara is immune to this fury, because she is as lost in time as Richard is.

She doesn't offer Richard the comfort of more than shared blankets again, but sometimes he catches her watching him...

Kahlan is dead.

And one night, when they are very near to the abandoned ruin that was once the People's Palace, where the last bits of the whole sordid story of Kahlan's marriage to Rahl will doubtless fall into place...

Richard kisses _Cara_.

"I thought you were in love with someone else," she purrs, rolling him over so she is on top of him. Her gold hair makes a cocoon for their faces.

Richard doesn't really compare Cara to Denna anymore—there's no point comparing her with anyone. The two of them might as well be the last people in the world.

Besides, Cara has stayed by his side, fighting when they have to, letting him teach her to forage for food, never tiring...

He's always admired a strong woman.

But bitterness makes his voice harsh when he replies, "Do you see her anywhere?"

And then Cara tosses her hair and pulls Richard to her, a tangle of lips and blankets and sensation...

Later, when the world is right again (for all they hover on the brink of total annihilation at the hands of the Keeper), and Kahlan lives, laughs and kisses Richard, and Cara watches, eyes unfathomable, mischievous, and deep...

Richard looks away, and they never speak of it.

It was another life. An eternal moment, lost in time.


	34. We Parody You Because We Love You

Written for legendland.**  
**

**We Parody You Because We Love You**

"I know I said we could never be, but then I started wearing this leather dress with side slits halfway up my thighs, can't you take a hint?"

"I should be working on my quest, saving innocent people, or possibly ruling a kingdom, I'm not too clear on these things, but I don't care - I love you!"

"I love you! Oh, Richard!"

"Oh, Kahlan!"

"Kiss me!"

"Confess me!"

Zedd held Cara tenderly in his arms, her back arched in a perfect, ladylike curve, eyes half-shut as if she were about to swoon, one wrist flung helplessly to her forehead, the other hand buried in the Wizard's hair.

"That's not funny," Kahlan said. She had her hands on her hips.

"It's not nice to make fun of other people's Epic Love," Richard agreed, but his eyes danced with repressed laughter.

Zedd swung Cara to her feet, and the two performers took an ironic bow together.


	35. Weather Forecast

Written for legendland.**  
**

**Weather Forecast**

There were times…

"Mama, mama, look! I'm the Seeker of Truth—whoosh! I killed a gar, that was attacking some innocent people! See?"

Nicholas zoomed around the room, waving his play wooden sword and stabbing the innocent air, while Kahlan, curled in the window seat, watched in sympathetic exhaustion.

Nicholas was Kahlan's most important responsibility, but she would have watched him with the same fascinated attention even had he not been her sole hope of seeing Richard again. She saw so many echoes of herself in her son—he had her eyes, and the same sharp intelligence behind them, too.

She tried to pretend he was Richard's, but there was no mistaking the determined set of his jaw, the arrogant smirk on that bright, alive little face…

Which was currently pink and pinched with what Kahlan recognized as the high energy she associated with imminent collapse from exhaustion. Nicholas had been bouncing off the walls all day, because of the rain still streaming down the window behind Kahlan's back.

With a sigh, Kahlan made to rise, but her husband entered the nursery just then, gave Nicholas one evaluating glance, and swept the boy into his arms.

"Bed for you, my little prince," he said affectionately.

"NO!" Nicholas protested vehemently, squirming and trying to hit his father with the wooden sword. "Don't wanna!"

Darken twisted the play weapon out of his son's hands. "Goodnight, Nicholas," he said firmly, holding the little boy's gaze until Nicholas reluctantly quieted.

Kahlan watched him tuck Nicholas into bed. So far he hadn't taken any notice of her presence. On the whole, she approved—Nicholas came first.

Their son was asleep in minutes, all that pent-up energy finally spent.

Only then did Darken turn to Kahlan, offering her his arm and pulling her up out of the window seat without waiting for her permission.

"My wizards tell me tomorrow should be sunny," he said quietly. "Thank the Creator."

Kahlan almost agreed, before she remembered that this was Darken Rahl. She couldn't agree with him, even about something as trivial as the weather—he was still the tyrant she had given her life to defeat.

But there were times it was easy to forget that she didn't belong here—that Darken and Nicholas weren't her real family.

At times like these, she would always look back and remember the way life was supposed to be. When she watched over a very different Seeker of Truth, a man who owed nothing to the D'Haran Empire her son would one day inherit.

And yet…every day, it seemed, she lost a little more of the desperation that had inspired her plan in the first place. There were times when it seemed easier to forget she had ever been anything but Lady Kahlan Rahl.


	36. Marvel

Written for legendland.**  
**

**Marvel**

All her years of fighting for what she thought was right—her Sisters and Lord Rahl, source of the strength that justified her existence—had come down to this.

One moment, stretched infinitely long, looking into the Mother Confessor's cold eyes.

Cara thought she saw condemnation therein, and welcomed it. She deserved worse.

When she thought of the deceit that had convinced her to take her own father's life, she wanted to die. That betrayal hurt the most—more even than the dark future in which the Mother Confessor's son, instead of her own, had ruled.

She waited for the all-consuming agony of Confession, reflecting that it could hardly make her feel worse than she did already.

As Cara died, she saw Kahlan. One moment, stretched infinitely long, looking into Kahlan's suddenly human eyes…

Cara read everything therein, as if she were the Confessor: hot rage, that had turned to cold fury, for what Cara had done to Dennee Amnell; corrosive bitterness directed at Richard, who had denied her vengeance and sought to protect Cara over the woman he swore he loved more than life itself; guilt, for leaving the sister Cara had murdered alone and vulnerable; fear, for Richard's life, as he once again ventured into the unknown on an impossible quest; pity, for Cara's losses, her father and her innocence together; grudging respect for Cara's competence; and shrewd, almost clinical judgment, that Cara's remorse was real.

Kahlan removed her hand from Cara's neck.

Cara hardly dared breathe, recognizing how close she had come to a death she surely deserved and almost desired—and marveled at what she had seen in Kahlan's eyes.

Surely, the weight of her crimes had driven her mad, to think she could read a Confessor's thoughts.

And how could anyone possibly feel so many conflicting emotions at once?

What bothered Cara the most later, though, was neither Kahlan's pity nor her hate—it was the superiority, the 'I spared my sister's killer, let all marvel on bended knee at my mercy.'

Mostly because, almost every day, Kahlan made Cara _want_ to marvel on bended knee.


	37. Kitten Alert

Written for legendland.**  
**

**Kitten Alert**

"I am Mord'Sith," Cara muttered savagely, as she maneuvered her way onto the next tree branch. Leaves fell to the distant forest floor, probably getting caught in Kahlan's bodice…

Distracted, Cara's gloved fingers slipped a little on the rough bark, and she had to shift her weight quickly in order to balance.

"Just a little further!" Richard called. "You can do it!"

He was hanging precariously from a branch about a body length above Cara, the kitten he had insisted on rescuing cradled protectively against his chest. It was showing a remarkable lack of the appropriate outraged spirit, and had so far neglected to bite or scratch him.

Cara doubted that it would extend her the same courtesy.

"I have broken more men than I can count," Cara went on grimly, as she continued to climb, "I have led armies, I have withstood torture that would make any of you three beg for the Underworld, I have outlined Darken Rahl's eyes with kohl—"

At that, Richard raised his eyebrows, and had the audacity to grin down at her.

Cara refrained from explaining that it was no laughing matter, and had actually involved an unusually complex and arcane assassination plot, and concentrated on her climb.

After all, if both she and Richard, who had neglected to realize that once he retrieved the kitten he would be as stuck as it had been, since that last branch was impossible to get down from one-handed, fell out of the tree to their doom at Kahlan's feet, there would be no one possessed of the Breath of Life left to revive them.

She owed her Lord Rahl care for both his life and his dignity—the latter was far more difficult than the former with Richard.

But the fact remained that all her training hadn't prepared her for this. "I am Mord'Sith," she concluded, finally within range.

Richard gently held out the kitten. It resisted leaving the comfort of his arms, and clawed futilely at Cara's leathers once she had a firm grip on it. "And Mord'Sith," she said, in defiance of her current position, "do not rescue kittens in trees."


	38. Under His Spell

Written for legendland.**  
**

**Under His Spell**

"This isn't you," the Seeker begged, eyes dark and wide and skin a map of pain. "Kahlan, please—you can fight this, I know you can."

Even helpless and in chains, the Seeker of Truth remained confident, ready to die rather than to give in to Kahlan's Lord and Master, Darken Rahl.

Abstractly, she admired that determination.

"Kahlan," he went on, as she circled him, the hem of the white dress she still wore brushing against the cool stone. "Remember the first time we met—I saved you from a D'Haran quad, and you nearly killed me? Zedd named me the Seeker, and you told me you were sworn to protect me with your life. On your way to find me, you lost your sister—all because of Darken Rahl, the tyrant who slaughtered and enslaved your people!"

Kahlan made an impatient noise at that. "I remember I thought that once," she said. "Lord Rahl showed me how wrong I was. You will learn, Seeker, that my Master desires nothing but peace, throughout all three territories."

"It's a spell! This isn't real, Kahlan—you can fight it, I know you can!" The desperation in the Seeker's tone was palpable now. "And my name is Richard, Kahlan," he added, tears forming at the corners of his eyes. "I love you. You love me. Just—unchain me and we'll go and find Zedd and he'll fix you, and everything will be the way it was."

He looked so sincere, his heart shining out his eyes—for a moment, she was arrested by the sight. For a moment, Kahlan wondered what it would be like to give in.

To flee with the Seeker—Richard—and fight the ultimately hopeless battle against Lord Rahl and his armies. To wake every morning to that smile, that "I love you" as casual as breathing.

But then, the Seeker wanted the Wizard to 'fix' her. Kahlan didn't need fixing. She felt more whole than she ever had. She had a purpose. She had love. She had victory.

She had everything.

"The Confessor," Lord Rahl said smoothly, stepping up behind Kahlan and putting a possessive arm around her waist, "is mine."

"NO!" the Seeker cried, thrashing futilely in his chains.

But Kahlan, turning in Lord Rahl's embrace and pulling him down to her for a lengthy kiss, paid Richard Cypher little attention.

She had a man worthy of her love and her service now, and he wasn't the Seeker of Truth.


End file.
